


very pretty

by wearegoingtodie



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: but like kinda cute, fluff?, i meannn the ship part is implied, its rly short tho, not explicit, this was for class lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28590534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wearegoingtodie/pseuds/wearegoingtodie
Summary: ...i personally think kokichi ouma is pretty so there was this because we were asked to describe something we loved for english
Relationships: Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	very pretty

The night sky was clear despite the abundance of light sources surrounding and inside of the school. The crisp, cold air blew from the left and seemed to engulf every bit of the school’s being. Puffs of warm and at the same time cold air spouted from pale pink, nearly white lips. A scarf was raised over a tiny and pink nose. Neutral purple eyes peeked out underneath lavender and black bangs. Legs clad in white bondage-style pants that matched with a similarly-styled long sleeve shirt dangled over a school roof. Kokichi Ouma sat calmly on a rooftop, staring at the stars in all of their night glory. The pale boy’s fingertips and nose were tinted pink and his lips were gradually losing their red color and becoming the same shade as his surrounding skin. Long eyelashes brushed gently beneath his eyes as he blinked. The door to the roof swung open and an equally pale (and equally gorgeous boy) emerged from the stairwell. The newcomer had even thicker eyelashes and golden-gray eyes partially hidden beneath a white and black hat that sat gently on top of navy hair that lay in thick strands around his head, much like a halo. The boy was equally as pale, if not paler, than Ouma. His black and gray pinstripe uniform clearly did little for the cold as he cupped his hands around his face and shivered to preserve warmth.

“Ouma-kun,” The navy-haired boy, Shuichi Saihara, called out. The white-clad boy in question tilted his head in acknowledgement to his classmate. “It’s time to come in.” Saihara slowly walked toward his classmate and friend. Ouma simply flopped back onto the roof.

“Saihara-chan…” The detective himself gulped audibly upon hearing Ouma’s high-pitched voice raspier than usual. “I think the stars are really pretty.” At that, Ouma sat up and began to shift his legs onto the roof. Saihara looked toward the sky, somewhat moving his hat away from his eyes to see the night sky clearly. A tap on his shoulder broke him out of his staring contest with the stars. Ouma giggled at Saihara’s confusion, his now-white lips curling into a small grin.

“Let’s go inside, Ouma-kun.” Saihara extended his hand to the purple-haired boy in front of him. Blinking rapidly, Ouma stared at it for a while before taking it. A cold hand grasping for the warmth of love.

“Yes, my beloved, let’s.”


End file.
